


healing hands and healing words

by loghainmactir



Category: Critical Role
Genre: Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, i cant even remember if shaun HAS healing spells & at this point i've given up n dont care, this is an older oneshot and also was a tumblr prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 04:53:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16866508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loghainmactir/pseuds/loghainmactir
Summary: Done for a "you need to take your shirt off" prompt a while ago on tumblr.





	healing hands and healing words

Almost three days after Thordak is dead, and they’re all still bloody, bruised and exhausted. Gilmore’s limbs ache and the back of his head pounds, but he’s tending to the wounds of the injured with Pike and he cannot leave until it is done.

Smoke, ash and blood are still in the air, and people still scream off in the distance. Fires still rage in the distance, and there are pockets of enemies still within Emon. It will take weeks— no, months— for things to even start to return to normal. Healing the wounded is the least he can— and intends— to do.

He does not expect it when Vax sits beside him.

Gilmore takes him in at a glance— he’s sprayed with so much blood he cannot tell whose it is, and the half-elf is wobbling as he sits. But he’s alive and he’s breathing and a Vax covered in blood is a Vax he regularly aees, so Gilmore takes the time to mend the broken leg of a child in front of him. It takes only a few seconds for his hands to light up with brilliant purple light, and the child marvels at his work with wide eyes. “Vax’ildan,” He greets. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

At his side, Vax begins to mutter a “Shaun, I—“ but he cuts himself off, and he groans as he clutches his stomach. Gilmore twists to face him immediately. Perhaps he wasn’t as ok as he assumed, and Vax slumps into him. He immediately helps him sit up, and he scowls.

“I can’t see what’s wrong with this still on.” He tugs at the edges of his shirt. “You need to take your shirt off.” It isn’t a request, and Gilmore’s voice is harsher than usual as he says it. A concerned scowl is etched onto his brow, and if Vax weren’t in so much pain, he’d perhaps be flattered.

He struggles to take his dark, bloodsoaked linen shirt off without assistance, and so Gilmore helps to tug it over his head. It’s a lot worse than it looked; Vax’s chest and back is littered with purple and blue bruises, fresh cuts and burns— both fire and acid. His skin is stained with blood, and he gives a horrid, rattling cough. Vax wipes his mouth on the back of his shaking hand.

The sight of him makes Gilmore’s chest ache. Why hadn’t he been there to stop this?

“Hold still,” Gilmore demands, and he reaches for him. Vax gives an involuntary pained groan as soon as his soft hands touch him— he’s in so much pain, goddamnit, but he holds still and bites down on his bruised lip.

He watches him work. Gilmore’s hands glow with a purple energy, starting at his stomach— it seeps into his skin, fills the cuts and pulses through the bruises on his flesh. His hands are gentle and warm as they glide across him, fixing each and every bump and dent; he takes such care, and Gilmore’s eyes never leave his injuries.

It’s like watching time rewind on his body. He hits an acid burn just below the right side of his chest. It’s eaten away at his flesh, has started to bite into his muscle— Gilmore cringes visibly at it. Vax watches as the muscle underneath leaps and jumps with energy, knitting itself together, and the skin folds shut over top.

He moves to his back, eventually, though Vax remains where he’s told. As he works, the warmth from his hands and his magic soothes the aches in his muscles, and his shoulders drop and he sighs softly. It feels like a wave of warm water had come over him, relaxing and reassuring. He was ok.

When Gilmore’s done, Vax twists to look at him. It’s incredible; he feels no pain, no tense muscles when he moves. But when he looks at Gilmore, he’s slightly pale, sweat beading on his forehead. “You were worse off than I thought you were.” Gilmore admits, chuckling nervously. He’d been sitting on his knees as he worked, and he was peering up at him now.

Vax offers him a warm, thankful smile, and he leans down to draw him into his arms. “Thank you, Shaun,” Vax whispers, close to his ear. He feels Gilmore’s arms wind around his back, and they hold eachother tight for a moment— just a brief moment, because Gilmore pulls back to cup his face in his hands, thumbs brushing his cheekbones, and sadness and worry fill his eyes.

“I was worried— I was worried I wouldn’t see you again.” He says, voice straining. It’s been so much, the last few days. It’s a struggle not to cry.

Vax just shakes his head, his hands lifting to rest over Gilmore’s. 

“No,” He reassures him, moving down to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. He feels Gilmore shake softly, and he realizes he’s crying. “I’d never leave you. Not without saying goodbye.”


End file.
